


Private Lives

by Remawerth



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adaptation, Canon Divergence, Divorce, Drama & Romance, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/M, Haruno Sakura-centric, Hatake Kakashi-centric, Humor, I Will Go Down With This Ship, KakaSaku main pairing, Rating for probable lemons, Romance, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, kakasaku - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 13:58:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17982401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remawerth/pseuds/Remawerth
Summary: After a volatile relationship ends in disaster, two divorcees go on honeymoon with their new spouses, deliriously happy. But are they really? When fate brings them together again, who can say what true love really is, and why they ever parted? The lives of shinobi are often short, and they've beaten the odds so far. Maybe it's too much to ask that they will again.KakaSaku main pairing! Less depressing than it sounds. Canon divergences will become clear as we go. Dysfunctional relationships are dysfunctional. Chances are you won't like anyone in this fic by the time it's over so buckle up :DThis is an adaptation of the brilliant Noël Coward play of the same name, and borrows elements of his dialogue.





	1. Overture

“Kashi! Kashi darling, come look at this, it’s wonderful!”

“Just a minute!” 

Hatake Kakashi studied himself in the mirror. He had changed clothes after the days of travel, before they had entered the seaside resort; it was a civilian town, and they were not there on a mission and this was the most renowned onsen in the Land of Steam, so he had dressed as the setting and purpose dictated. Silk draped his body, a simple yukata of shantung, the irregular fibres giving an occasional gleam amidst an otherwise matte pool of black. The yukata was tied at the waist with a silver obi, embroidered in lighter metallic threads with the Hatake crest. Though the necessity of tying something over his eye to match his attire when out of uniform had long since gone, Kakashi had still worn his mask until now, when they had arrived in their chambers. It sat puddled, a little despondent looking, on the corner of the (unnecessarily huge, it seemed to him) vanity in their bathroom, as he fidgeted slightly with the hem of his sleeve. His yukata may have been simple, but it was of the finest quality- and yet, here was a thread, niggling at him. Her voice sounded again, imploring him to come out onto the balcony, and he gave up. Kakashi exited the bathroom, and made his way through the sitting room and out into the evening air where his young new wife was waiting.

She turned to face him, beaming, her skin and her grin radiant in the light of the setting sun.

“Look Kashi, see how glorious the sunset is on the water! You’d never see anything like that in Konoha.” She rushed to him, placing her hands on his shoulders, popping onto her tiptoes, and pecking him swiftly on the lips, before turning and bounding across the balcony to its rail, a balustrade just high and thick enough that he could have sat on it comfortable- it was a bit too tall for his petite wife to do the same, so she leaned over it, her hands flat on the surface, gazing enraptured at the dancing swells.

“Maa, it’s not bad.”

She turned to look at him, a little sharply, but her face melted into happiness again at the sight of his eyes crinkling above the upturned lips, clearly on display.

“Oh Kashi, you’re laughing at me! But it’s all right. I know you don’t mean it,” she help out her hand in invitation, and he crossed the balcony to take it, sliding his up onto the balustrade, perched with his feet on the ground and his head turned to take in the view, their hands resting on his knee. “Because I love you. Can you believe it Kashi, here we are, you and I, married!”

Kakashi laughed. “Oh yes, it seems almost unbelieveable, doesn’t it!”

She frowned, her hand tensing in his. “Please darling, don’t be so casual about our honeymoon, just because this is your second.”

“What makes you think that?” Kakashi returned her frown, his hand beginning to slip away.

“Are you annoyed with me?” It was a direct question, and fairly unavoidable given the circumstances.

 “A little,” he admitted, ceasing his hand’s progress. Hers seized it with a renewed intensity.

 “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up. Really. Kiss me?” He obliged, a peck similar to the one she had given him moments before.

“You can do better than that.” He kissed her again, allowing his lips to linger a moment longer.

“Third time’s the charm?” she wheedled, her eyes still closed, breathy voice warm against the skin of his face. This time Kakashi gave in to the pull of her fingers gripping the chest of his yukata, scooting closer to her on the balustrade, his arm snaking around her waist to pull her tightly against him as their lips met firmly, parted, and exchanged a whisper of tongues before joining again. When he finally released her they were both a little short of breath, and a grin flashed across his face.

“You are very sweet. And persuasive.”

 “Are you glad you married me?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t going to be glad.”

“How glad?”

“Incredibly, magnificently glad!” Kakashi hoped that this hyperbole would stop wherever this line of enquiry was leading. There was no way the shrewd look behind her smiling eyes had no ulterior motive, and he had been caught off guard.

 “Gladder than before?” He stood bolt upright and walked away towards the end of the balcony, where a low wall separated it from adjoining balcony of the next suite.

 “I wish you would stop harping on that, Ayame.”


	2. Kakashi

Hatake Ayame flicked her dark hair out of her eyes and stepped away from the balustrade, straightening the elaborately embroidered lavender obi that held her deep blue yukata in place; it would have been rather too conservative for her if not for the pattern of golden stars scattered over it, each painstakingly stitched in gold metallic thread. She turned to face her husband’s back as he tacked away from her, irritation evident in every swish of his silver hair.

“Well, it’s been on my mind quite a bit. And I imagine yours too, I don’t see how it couldn’t be.”

“It is not on my mind.” Kakashi retorted, and Ayame imagined she could her his fingertips grinding into the stone of the low wall between the balconies as he gripped it. He was obviously lying; even if it hadn’t been on his mind before, it certainly was now. Since he was being uncooperative, she decided to push the subject a little further.

“She was pretty, wasn’t she? Sakura?”

At this, Kakashi’s barking laugh rang aloud and he turned back to face her, now leaning against the wall. “You know as well as I do that she was! You’ve been serving her ramen longer than I’ve known her.” 

Ayame’s cheeks burned, as she hoped that the rapidly descending sun was willing to hide her reaction. “Prettier than me?”

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed. If she was going to be petty and push him, he would push right back. “Yes. Much.”

“Kashi!”

“She was pretty and strong, her hands were strong and her arms were strong, and her legs were long and graceful, and when she ran through the treetops at dawn it was as though Amaterasu herself had given her wings.” He jabbed his finger at the setting sun.

Ayame gaped at him, before bursting out, “Can she make ramen as well as I can?”

“No, she could burn water.”

“Hah! Did she have my talent for business?”

“No, but she didn’t have your father, either.”

“You love my father!”

“Yes, before he became my father-in-law. Now all he wants me to do is retire and help run the family business.”

“Oh come on, it isn’t that bad! And well, you can’t be a shinobi forever, can you?”

She couldn’t have needled him more if she were flinging senbon at him. “I think the only reason you married me was to get away from the ramen stand for a bit.”

“I married you because I love you!” Ayame finally broke from the resolute resolute position she had taken up trying to make him come to her, and flew towards him, in a pouting imitation of her earlier greeting, her hands coming to his shoulders again, but this time to ball up the fabric there. “I love you far more than Sakura loved you. I’d never make you miserable like she did.”

“We made each other miserable.”

“It was all her fault, you know it was!”

Kakashi struck his signature thinking pose, one finger pressed to his tight-shut lips. “You know what? You’re right, it was. Entirely her fault.” His eyes cast about the balcony- somewhere, there must be a bottle of sake lurking. This was their honeymoon, damnit, and if he ever needed a complimentary drink, it was now.

“She was a fool to lose you.”

“We lost each other.”

“She lost you, with her violent tempers and carryings on.”

“Will you stop talking about Sakura?” It was only his many years of shinobi training that kept Kakashi from completely losing his temper. He was trying so hard to be happy.

“But I’m very glad!” Ayame’s perky tone had returned, and she pushed herself lightly away from Kakashi’s chest, swaying back across the balcony to resume her position at the balustrade, gazing out at the now darkening waters, drumming her fingertips against the marble surface of the railing, and speaking as though to herself. “If she hadn’t been uncontrolled, and wicked, and unfaithful, we wouldn’t be here now.” There was an extended pause, before Kakashi muttered,

“She wasn’t unfaithful.”

“I bet she was. I bet she was unfaithful every five minutes. Every boy her age was mooning over her by the time she made chuunin. You hate her, don’t you?”

“No, I think despise is a better word, if I had to pick one-”

“That’s worse. Good.”

“-and I’m sorry for her.”

“Why on earth would you feel sorry for her?”

“It’s like you said.” His eyes crinkled again, and he shrugged, holding his hands palms up in his usual disarming way, “It was all her fault. She’s marked for tragedy, if she kept on the way she was going nothing good will have happened for her. Anyway, it was a long time ago. I can pity her now.”

“It wasn’t that long ago.” 

“Ayame, please.”

“Do you think you could ever love her again?”

“ _Please_ , Ayame.” 

“But could you?” 

“I love you.”

“But differently.”

Silence stretched out again, even longer this time. Something about her last assertion has struck the philosophical chord that lay not so deeply buried beneath Kakashi’s surface, and he mused for a moment, before pushing himself away from the wall to wander slowly towards his wife. His voice was a soft rumble, clarity unhindered by its usual layer of fabric. 

“Yes, you’re right. Differently. Maybe more wisely. I think that’s where I went wrong before. Love should be wise, and calm. Just as present over a bowl of ramen as it is on the battlefield. Not worried about what others might think, because it’s slow, and true. Because it’s always been, even if you didn’t realize it. Not jealous or jagged or loud. I guess that’s what I’ve always wanted, a steady, peaceful love.” He had arrived at her side now, and took up her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it gently. When he looked up at her over it, his black eyes were alight with mischief. “I hope you won’t get too bored.”

Ayame laughed, shattering the tension that had grown between them, and swatted him playfully. “Bored? How could I get bored? I married Hatake Kakashi, Rokudaime Hokage and the second-greatest pervert Konoha has ever known!”

“Second-greatest?” Kakashi shoved out his lower lip and widened his eyes outrageously.

“Even you never passed Jiraiya-sama, try as you might, my darling.”

“I am much older than you though.”

“Not as much older than-“

“Let’s visit the baths tomorrow.” Kakashi pointed off the opposite side of the balcony, where they could just glimpse the walls of the baths themselves.

“Oh yes!” Ayame took the bait, then raised a hand to her cheek. “I’ll have to be careful and wear my hat. I don’t want to get a sunburn.”

“Why not?”

She looked at him reproachfully. Years of working indoors under the cover of a ramen stand had given her a beautifully porcelain complexion, and she fully recognized her pridefulness over it. “I hate it on women.”

“Maa, I hope you don’t hate it on men. I burn every time I go to a bath.” _His_ complexion was stubbornly pale whether he liked it or not, and of course the lower half of his face seldom saw any sun. The relaxation was worth it, and he usually had someone along to heal- well, he would just have to deal with it this time, or treat it in more… traditional… ways.

 “No, it’ll make you look rugged if you get a tan. Very manly.”

He noted the distinct lack of acknowledgement that he would _burn_ , not tan. “If you’d like me to dress in flannel and grow a beard too I suppose I could try.”

“Honestly Kashi, I’m just saying a little manly color wouldn’t be a bad thing. You look so peaky after spending a few years in an office.”

“Trying to change me already?” 

“No, understand you, maybe?”

“Manage me?”

“That was just rude.” She gave him a withering look, and he crinkled his eyes. It was almost as though he still had the mask on, for all his face was telling her.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be awful, it’s just all the old annoyances keep coming back now that you’ve prodded them, thinking that any woman must have plans for a man once she’s got him locked down, you know, like a cat stalking a mouse. Or an eagle stalking a rabbit. Or a gopher. Or a Chihuahua.”

“Now you’re being rude _and_ ridiculous! What’s the matter Kashi darling, are you hangry?”

He cringed at the sound of the made-up word. True, it was an accurate description of a common state, but he still detested it. “No, I’m fine. Not even peckish.”

“You’re just behaving very morbidly all of a sudden.” He bit back the impulse to throw her own morbid line of questioning back at her, then instantly regretted it when she went on, “Why did you really let her divorce you? I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised it happened, but why did you let her do it?”

“It wouldn’t have been gentlemanly for me to divorce her.”

“Misplaced chivalry.”

“Will you please stop talking about her?”

“Oh, all right.”

“I don’t want to see her or hear her name ever again.”

“Very well, darling.” A vindictive warmth had crept into Ayame’s voice. She allowed a moment of silence to pass, giving just enough credence to the idea of peace that Kakashi began to believe it would last, then her question hit him like a slap:   
“Where did you spend your honeymoon?”

“Suna. Now stop.”

“I hate Suna.”

“So do I.” 

“Was she good with the sand snakes?”

Kakashi swept one arm under Ayame’s legs, the other behind her shoulder, and hoisted her into a bridal lift, striding back towards the door of their rooms. “Do you want to have dinner here, or go over the their casino?”

“Oh Kashi darling, I do love you!” She peppered his face with kisses, giggling as he carried her. “The casino sounds exciting! Do you gamble? You never said.”

“There’s plenty you don’t know about me.”

“Well, I’ll be your good luck charm! I’ll hover over your shoulder and blow on your cards or whatever it is good-luck girls do. The Rokudaime will have a much better reputation than the Godaime!”

“That shouldn’t be difficult.”

Kakashi hesitated for the barest instant as his foot closed the threshold of the door: he could have sword he caught the faintest hint of Floral Green. Then Ayame’s laughter brought him back to himself, and he bounded inside with her to prepare for dinner.


End file.
